


AKA Matryoshka

by for_t2



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Russian Doll (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Birthday Party, Crossover, Drug Abuse, F/F, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: Until Jess can figure out how to save Trish, the party must go on





	1. Chapter 1

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

This wasn’t her idea.

It never was.

Jessica Jones doesn’t celebrate her birthday. Doesn’t see the point. It’s just a day like any other. And the moment you start finding excuses to have a drink or two, you start becoming good at finding excuses. Jess sees it every day, in the school hallways, the streets of New York, at home… Jess feels it every day.

Besides, even if she did want to celebrate her birthday, who would she celebrate it with? She’s picked up a lot of nicknames over the last few years. The coma girl. The traumatised girl. The creepy girl who wears too much black and knows too much. And, of course, she’s heard the rumours. All of them. And she tries not to react. Tries not to flinch. Because as much as the other students might try to hurt her, it’s nothing compared to what she knows she can do to them. And that scares Jess.

So she doesn’t celebrate. Doesn’t party.

But Trish does.

Trish always has ideas. She’s the creative one, even if she doesn’t always get the chance to show it.

So here Jess is.

And the knocking on the bathroom door behind her won’t shut up.

So Jess turns of the tap. Lets out a heavy sigh.

And the knocking just gets louder.

Jess marches over. Opens the door. Some drunken guy, way too rich to be good, way too old to be here, tries to push past her, a drunken girl way too young to be here in his hands. “Finally!”

“Fuck off,” Jess replies. Pulls the girl away from him with just enough strength to let him know not to mess with her. “Go home,” she says as she pushes the girl towards the door and away from her.

Trish is the nice one. She always tries to include Jess. Tries to celebrate Jess. But it always ends the same way – Jess on the fringes, lurking in the shadows, silently waiting for it all to be over. And it always starts the same way – Trish’s clique (because none of them are really friends) pretending to smile, pretending to ask Jess how she is, Jess just waiting for them to shut up and start ignoring her.

“Sweet birthday baby!” Someone cheers out from the kitchen, aimed towards everyone and no one. The people here don’t know Jess. And even if they did, they’re too drunk, too high, to realise its her birthday. To them, it’s just a birthday. A party. 

Sometimes Jess worries that Trish is stop trying to include her. That her pleas of “come on!” are going to turn into sneers, into the resentment that Jess knows most people feel when a burden’s been forced onto them. Sometimes, Jess has nightmares about the things Trish says when the drugs hit her the wrong way.

But Trish always apologises the next morning.

And Jess always stays.

Because even if Trish didn’t want her there, Trish would need her there. Trish said the party was for Jess’s birthday. Trish believes that. But sometimes it’s hard to tell when you’re lying to yourself.

So Jess ends up in the corner of the room as usual, a light drink in her hand, and her eyes on Trish.

Always on Trish.

***** 

“Jess!”

Too loud.

“Jess! Jess! Come on!”

Jess’s eyes jerk open to find Trish shaking her. Trish, with her eyes bloodshot, her grin manic, and her clothes a little too rumpled.

“Jess! Come on! Let’s dance!”

“Trish…”

“Come on!” Trish tries to pull her away from the corner.

“Trish,” Jess doesn’t let her. “Wait.”

“Come onnn!” Trish tries harder. Tries to sneak her hands around Jess. “It’s your birthday. You’re a big girl now.”

“Trish,” Jess holds her still. Looks into her eyes. “What did you take?”

Trish giggles. “Andy… The Andy! You know.” She giggles again. “He said I can be a star. Big, million dollar film star. Big girl film star.”

“Trish,” and Jess can’t help but freak out just a little. “What did he give you?”

“He’s a very nice guy.” Trish giggles again. “And you should see his—”

Jess doesn’t let her finish that sentence. “We’re going home.”

***** 

“Jess.”

Jess tries her best to ignore her.

“Jess!”

Jess tries her best to just keep dragging her forward. Just until they can get somewhere different. Until they can get home.

“Jess!”

And, as much as Jess has super strength, it doesn’t help when Trish stabs her with her high heel. “Ow!”

“Let go of me!” The pain is enough of a distraction for Trish to wrench her arm out of Jess’s grasp. “God, why are you always like this?”

“Trish, come on. You need—”

“Don’t tell me what I need!” Trish shouts back, stumbling to put her shoe back on.

“Trish, look at yourself.” Jess is always crap at this. “You need to sober up and—”

“You’re just like my mum.”

That hurts. “I’m nothing like her.” And Jess struggles to stop herself from shouting at Trish. From being angry at Trish. “I would never—”

“Bitch.” Trish gives her the finger. A drunken, wobbly finger, but the message gets across. The message gets across even clearer when Trish finally slips her shoe back on and turns away from Jess. When she starts walking back across the road.

“Trish…”

Trish doesn’t answer.

Jess wishes she would. Jess wishes she could find a way to get Trish to listen. To get Trish to stop. To-- 

Trish doesn’t notice the taxi speeding down the road.

“Trish!”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Breathe.

Jess struggles to get her breathing to calm down.

“Shit.”

She closes her eyes. Tries to focus on the flow of the tap water.

“Shit.”

The pounding on the bathroom door makes it difficult.

“Fuck me,” she gives up. Switches the tap off.

She must’ve dozed off for a moment. Grungy black clothes against pale skin doesn’t exactly make Jess look lively, but she’s usually more tired than she lets on. Especially when she has to stay up late for one of Trish’s parties.

Shouting gets added into the pounding.

But if Jess can’t stay awake, then Trish…

Jess marches over. Opens the door. Some drunken guy, way too rich to be good, way too old to be here, tries to push past her, a drunken girl way too young to be here in his hands. “Finally!”

“Fuck off,” Jess replies. Pulls the girl away from him with just enough strength to let him know not to mess with her. “Go home,” she says as she pushes the girl towards the door and away from her.

Jess looks around the room, through the flashing strobe lights and the heat of the jostling crowd. “Where the hell are you?”

“Sweet birthday baby!” Someone cheers out from the kitchen, aimed towards everyone and no one. The people here don’t know Jess. Not that it matters. Not that Jess would want to know them. The only thing she’d care about right now is what they could do to Trish. 

“Have you seen Trish?” Jess tries grabbing the first person she sees. He shrugs back at her. Tries to keep dancing. “Trish? Patsy?” Jess has to practically grab him by the ear and shout down it.

“Dancy?” He shouts back. “Yeah! Dancing!” And he tries to grab Jess. Tries to pull her into the crowd. So she decks him. He doesn’t seem to mind too much. “Daaaancy!”

Jess forces her way through the crowd.

She tries pulling people aside. Tries shouting down their ears. She gets a different answer from each person.

It’s only when she gets to the other side of the room, that she finds her. Leaning against a bedroom doorframe, practically falling into some thirty-year-old who Jess thinks looks like the sleaziest guy she’s seen near Trish yet, especially considering the way he wears a suit that practically screams money.

“Trish!”

It’s not until Jess is practically pressed against Trish that Trish notices her. “Jess!” She grabs Jess. “Jess! This is Andy!” She giggles. “The Andy!”

“Nice to meet you,” Jess says without even looking his way. She just grabs Trish instead. “Come on. We should go home.”

“But Jessss,” Trish slurs. “Andy hasn’t told you about—”

“Come on.”

***** 

Trish grumbles as Jess leads her out of the apartment.

“Trish, what have I told about—”

“You’re not my mother.” Trish says. Trying weakly to pry herself out of Jess’s hands.

“Your mother doesn’t give a fuck about you,” Jess replies, and it’s mostly true. Mostly. If only she could get Trish to realise it.

“My mother—”

“Shut up about Dorothy! Okay?” Jess doesn’t like it when Trish talks about her mother. Not unless – until – she really wants to talk about her. About the shit she puts Trish through. About how Jess can help her get free.

“My mother always tells me to shut up,” Trish mumbles.

“I know,” Jess says as softly as she can. “I know.”

”My mother,” Trish continues, getting into that drunken moodiness that inevitably sets in, “she’s—”

And before Jess can react, Trish stumbles. Slips out of her hand.

And down two flights of stairs.

“Trish!”

She lands with a crack.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

This is wrong.

Something’s wrong.

Jess feels like she’s about to throw up.

Trish…

The pounding on the bathroom snaps her back to reality. She looks down to find a chunk of the sink crumbling in her fists.

Think.

Drugs. Trish’s parties always have drugs. Too many of them. Jess hasn’t… No. Just a couple drinks. Just a couple. Just beer. Light beer. Right? Right. But she put her beer down for a second. Once. One second.

Shit.

Somebody slipped her something.

Shit.

Shouting gets added into the pounding.

“Alright!”

Jess marches over. Opens the door. Some drunken guy, way too rich to be good, way too old to be here, tries to push past her, a drunken girl way too young to be here in his hands. “Finally!”

“Fuck off,” Jess replies. Pulls the girl away from him with just enough strength to let him know not to mess with her. “Go home,” she says as she pushes the girl towards the door and away from her.

Trish… 

Trish.

Jess spots her on the other side of the room. Talking to some sleazeball. She marches over. “Come on, Trish,” she says as she grabs her. “We’re going home.”

“Jessss…”

“I’m not going to let you get hurt,” Jess says, tugging Trish with her. Forcefully.

***** 

Trish grumbles as Jess leads her out of the apartment.

“Where do you even find these fuckers?” Jess grumbles too.

“Fuckers. Heh.” Trish giggles.

“Seriously,” Jess continues, making sure not to shout around Trish. “You don’t know what they’re going to give you, you don’t know what they’re going to do, you don’t know—”

“Maybe that’s the point,” Trish stumbles over her words. But the messages hits Jess loud and clear. Five by five. And it’s all she can do to stop her heart from shattering right there and then.

“Trish…”

“Maybe,” Trish tries to turn around. To face Jess. “Maybe you should—”

She slips.

Right down the stairs.

Crack.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Trish.

Jess vomits.

Trish.

This is wrong. Really fucking fucked up wrong.

Trish.

This isn’t drugs. It feels way too real to be drugs.

Trish.

Shouting mixes with the pounding on the bathroom door.

Trish.

So Jess waits for the water to wash away the vomit. Turns the tap off. Marches over and opens the door. Some drunken guy, way too rich to be good, way too old to be here, tries to push past her, a drunken girl way too young to be here in his hands. “Finally!”

Jess doesn’t bother to reply. She just pulls the girl away from him with just enough strength to let him know not to mess with her. “Go home,” she says and pushes the girl towards the door.

Trish.

It only takes a moment for Jess to find Trish in the crowd.

“Trish!”

Trish waves when she notices Jess. “Jess!” Tries to point her towards the dick she’s talking to. “This is—”

“Fuck off, Andy.”

***** 

Trish grumbles as Jess leads her out of the apartment.

“Trish,” Jess starts, keeping her voice low. “Something’s wrong.” She doesn’t know who might be eavesdropping. And it’d be harder to keep a hold of Trish in a panic.

“Yeah,” Trish says. “Something is.”

“Trish?”

“Your attitude!” Trish breaks out into a grin. Giggles. “You need more—”

“Trish!”

Jess stops her just in time. Just before the stairs.

“Jess?”

Jess stares down the stairs.

It almost feels like they stare back at her.

“No.”

***** 

Trish lets out a cheer when Jess leads back into the party.

“Let’s—”

“No.” Jess tugs her away from the drinks table the moment Trish makes a lunge for it.

“Aw, come on Jess.”

“Trish,” Jess tries to hold her steady. “Listen to me. Something is seriously…” And Trish is already losing herself in the beat of the music. “For fuck’s sake.”

Jess looks around.

Spots her exit.

***** 

Jess hates flying.

Jess is crap at flying. She probably wouldn’t be if she tried practicing, but she hates it, so she doesn’t.

Trish loves it when Jess flies. Trish thinks it’s awesome.

“Do it again!” Trish shouts in Jess’s ear when Jess lands them in the alley several stories below the party. “Do it again!”

Jess looks back up. She doesn’t think anyone saw them jump out the window. She knows nobody would care if it was just her, but when it’s Patsy the star too, well… Jess doesn’t want any more rumours.

“Jess?” Trish says, sounding as if the adrenaline might’ve sobered her up just a little.

“Trish?”

“You’re awesome.” Okay, maybe it didn’t sober her up at all. “Like, really—”

Something from the roof cracks.

A brick.

It falls.

“Trish!”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

This is hell.

Jess vomits again.

Jess doesn’t believe in heaven, but today, she believes in hell. Her own personal hell. This stupid fucking party and… fuck.

Trish.

Maybe this is hell, but that’s not going to stop Jess from doing what she will always do. No matter what.

“Alright!” She shouts before the shouting comes through the door.

She marches over. Opens the door. The drunken guy, way too rich to be good, way too old to be here, tries to push past her, a drunken girl way too young to be here in his hands. “Finally!”

Jess throws him into the bathroom. Slams the door behind her. “Go home.” She pushes the girl towards the door.

Trish.

Jess doesn’t need to look to know where she’ll be.

She sets off through the crowd towards her. To make sure, this time, that it doesn’t happen again. That it never happens.

But… 

Jess stops.

Stands still in the middle of the party, a stone in the rhythm of the music and dance.

Jess is smart. She may be brutally traumatised, but no matter what some of the rumours say, that would never make her less smart. Consistently top of the class in grades. And she’s not just book smart. The only extracurricular activity she takes part in is the small student newspaper, _Alias_. It’s just her, Malcom and Gillian, a trio of outcast nerds, and they’re fucking good at it.

Jess is smart. So she makes the connection. Four times Trish has died. Four times, Jess tried to take her away from the party. Four times Jess tried to save her.

Jess knows how to read between the lines.

Maybe hell is trying to teach her a lesson.

Maybe Trish doesn’t need to be saved.

Maybe Trish doesn’t need her.

So Jess closes her eyes, and makes the hardest decision of her life.

She walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Jess didn’t sleep well.

Barely slept at all, really. Seeing your adopted sister, your best friend, one of your only friends, your… someone you care about, die over and over kinda sucks.

Okay, it really fucking sucks.

Especially since Jess didn’t save her. Each time, Jess tried to the right thing. Tried to be there for Trish the way Jess is always supposed to be. When Dorothy gets in one of her moods, Jess is supposed to be there. When of Trish’s fellow actors (officially “friends”) push her limits too close to the edge, Jess is supposed to be there. When Trish pushes her own limits, Jess is supposed to be there.

And last night, Jess was supposed to be there. Jess was there. But Trish still died. So this time, as much as she hates it, as much as every neuron in her body screams, Jess isn’t going to be there. Maybe this time, Trish won’t die. Maybe, this time, Trish doesn’t need Jess.

Having every neuron in your body scream makes it hard to sleep.

And even if Jess is going to let Trish manage on her own, Jess can’t help herself but analyse and over-analyse every second she can remember.

Maybe there’s a way.

Maybe Jess missed something.

Maybe there’s something Jess didn’t do.

Maybe Trish still needs Jess.

Maybe… 

But eventually, when the Sun began to poke over the horizon, exhaustion wins over screaming neurons. Eventually, Jess’s eyes drift shut.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Goddammit.

Jess buries her face in her hands. This is never going to end, is it?

*****

Something buzzes.

Loudly.

“Ugh.” Jess rolls over in bed. Cracked her eyes open. Still dark. “What time is it?”

The buzzing. Her phone. A call. From Trish.

From Trish.

Jess stares at it. Trish. Jess is supposed to be there for her. But… But. If Jess can’t save her, if Jess does the wrong thing, if Jess is the problem… Maybe she’s just overthinking it. Maybe. Hopefully. But if she’s not…

She’s too tired to be overthinking.

So she rolls back over. Shuts her eyes.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Of course.

Jess fucked up. Jess always fucks up, doesn’t she? Isn’t that what Dorothy says? That Jess fucked up their home life, that Jess fucked Trish up, that Jess fucked her career up, that Jess fucked her own fucking family up because Jess is just a fucking fuck-up.

Fuck!

Smash.

Sometimes, Jess forgets how strong she is. Usually when she’s angry. Once, Trish said that made Jess like the Hulk. A depressive teenage Hulk without the green. Trish said that made Jess kinda awesome. Sometimes, Trish doesn’t have the best judgment. Especially when she’s high.

At leas the bathroom sink will fix itself next time.

Unfortunately, the pounding on the door won’t fix itself next time.

So Jess turns off the tap before any more water spills over the floor. Marches over to the door. The same idiot drunk, with the same intoxicated girl, tries to push past her. “Finally!”

“Good luck,” Jess snorts. Pulls the girl away from him with just enough strength to let him know not to mess with her. “You should go home,” she says to the girl, pushing her towards the exit.

“Sweet birthday baby!” Someone cheers out from the kitchen, aimed towards everyone and no one. Maybe Jess should investigate that someone. Maybe they’re causing all this. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but Jess can’t quite place it.

But, first, Trish. Jess knows exactly where she is, off to the side, talking to that Andy dick. Maybe he’s the one behind this. Maybe he’s a supervillain. Maybe…

Maybe Trish doesn’t need Jess.

Maybe Trish does look kinda happy.

***** 

“Oh, come on.”

The cashier shakes his head.

“How old do I fucking look?”

“How old does your ID say you are?” The cashier replies, sounding way too serene for Jess’s mood.

“Please, just—”

“ID.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d need to see some ID for that too.”

“Oh, for…” Jess desperately wants to punch somebody. The cashier, if she could choose. The last thing she wants on a night like this is an argument with a stranger. A stranger standing between her and a drink that would help her forget this night is happening. “Look, your colleague, he knows me. He—”

“He does, does he?” The cashier says with a raised eyebrow and a tone of voice that Jess knows means she made a mistake in mentioning it.

“Fuck me.”

“Did your parents teach you to swear like that?”

“My parents are fucking dead, you prick.”

Silence.

***** 

Jess’s phone buzzes.

Loudly.

“Ugh.” Jess rolls over in bed. Cracked her eyes open. Still dark. And she’s hungover. Of course, it’s Trish calling.

For a moment, Jess thinks she shouldn’t answer. But when she didn’t answer last time, Trish still found a way to die.

“What do you want, Trish?”

“Jess?” And Trish sounds sober. Way too sober. “Jess, are you there?” She barely strangles a sob.

And Jess is wide awake. “Trish. Where are you?”

Jess is already grabbing her jacket by the time Trish manages to whisper out an address.

And Jess is already marching down the street when the line goes dead.

“Trish?” A part of Jess knows she isn’t going to get an answer. “Trish!”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Andy.

The fucking bastard. Jess knew he was a prick.

“Shut up!” She shouts angrily enough that the knocking on the bathroom door stops for a moment. But then it starts all over, angry as well.

So Jess marches over. Opens the door. The drunken prick tries to push past her. “Finally!”

“Go home,” she says, pushing the girl away and grabbing the prick. She slams the bathroom door shut. “Tell me about Andy.”

“Hey, let go of me!” The prick tries to wriggle out of her grasp. But he doesn’t have super strength.

“Tell me about Andy.”

“Um…” And he finally seems to realise that he doesn’t really have a choice. “Who’s Andy?”

***** 

As it turns out, drunk people are pretty useless.

It’s a thought that gives pause to Jess for a moment – she knows she already has a bit of a taste for alcohol, and even if she tries to keep any drinks as far away from Trish as she can, sometimes it’s a little to tempting to just forget about the world, and get lost in the rush. And, sometimes, there’s just nothing Jess can say that can get through the Trish, not when things are at their worse.

But at this stupid party, the alcohol and the drugs aren’t just making people useless, they’re making them worse than useless. Jess hasn’t been able to get a coherent answer out of anyone, and she’s already to push a handful of guys and a couple of girls off her.

And she knows that trying to pull Trish out of the party is going to backfire.

So she goes for plan C.

Stalking.

***** 

As it turns out, drunk people are pretty easy to follow.

They walk annoyingly slowly, and wobble around, but they’re too unfocused to notice anyone behind them. Especially when that anyone is Jess, who finds it pretty damn easy to blend into the shadows, and who’s getting to know the curves and twists of the city like the back of her hand.

It also helps that she has practice. Last year, at one of many _Alias_ meetings, Gillian had mentioned a rumour she heard about one the teachers. Malcolm jumped at the opportunity. Jess jumped too, a little less hyperactively. In the end, it turned out that the rumours were just the tip of the iceberg, and the principal had a vested interest in making sure the story never saw the light of day. Gillian and Malcolm were ready to fight for it every step of the way, and so was Jess, until the principal mentioned how easy it would be to expel Trish.

Jess knows the other two haven’t forgiven her for that.

And, to be honest, Jess is sure if she’s forgiven herself either. And maybe there’s a part of Jess, a part of herself that Jess hates, that kinda resents Trish for that. That kinda resents always having to look out for Trish, always have to stop Trish from being an idiot, always having to save Trish. And Jess knows there’s a part of Trish that hates always having to be saved by Jess.

They’d be the first to admit that they’re both dysfunctional. But at least when they’re together, they’re a little less dysfunctional.

So here they are, not exactly together, but nearby. As in, Trish is in Andy’s pretentious-looking apartment, and Jess is crouched on the roof opposite, trying her best to peer through the curtains.

It’s not easy.

But when the shadow that looks like Andy makes a grab, and the shadow that looks like Trish twists the wrong way, Jess jumps to conclusions.

Literally.

One of the things Jess hates about flying is landing. And when she flops onto the floor of Andy’s apartment, glass crashing around her, for a moment, she decides she should probably practice more often. That moment passes the moment she sees Trish, shaking, close to crying.

“Jess?”

“Who the fuck—” Andy doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence before Jess punches him. Hard. Hard enough for his body to make an odd sound when he slams into the wall, and hard enough for a little too much blood to trickle out of his body.

Jess can regret it later.

“Trish?” Jess hurries over to her. Checks her over. A few bruises. “What did he do to you?”

“Jess.”

And a spot of blood on her arm. Over a vein. And that’s when Jess spots the needles on the table.

“Trish, you didn’t.”

“Jess.”

“What have I told you about---”

“Jess, I really don’t feel too—”

Jess barely has the time to catch her before she collapses.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

It wasn’t the first time Trish overdosed.

A couple months ago, production had to be temporarily suspended on the show after the star got rushed to the hospital because of “an allergic reaction.” Even Dorothy looked scared, scared enough to make a temporary truce with Jess. And when Jess saw Trish lying there, pale against the sterile sheets of the hospital bed, her heart lurched in a way she didn’t know was possible.

And just like that time, as soon as Jess managed to slow down, as soon as she managed to suppress the fear, anger surged through her blood.

So Jess marches over and opens. The drunken prick tries to push past her. “Finally!”

She punches him. Hard enough to knock him out. “Go.” She orders the girl, who looks almost as scared as Jess felt that night, and who scurries away.

Jess finds Trish, the same place as always in the party. Sets her sights on Andy.

Waits.

***** 

“You see Patsy, you’ll never have to worry about anything again.”

“Hmm,” Trish mumbles back, in Andy’s arm as he fumbles for the keys to his apartment.

“Never! Because Andy is going to take good care of—”

Jess chooses that moment to land in front of them. And she is pissed.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Let go of her.” Jess isn’t asking.

“Are you one of those super-freaks?” Andy slurs his words as he jabs his keys towards her. “Your lot belongs in—”

Jess kicks him where it hurts, and she doesn’t hold back.

“Jess?”

Jess steps over out-cold Andy. Slips her leather jacket around a trembling Trish. “Want to go home?”

“Jess, I…” Silence. Trish nods. “Yeah.”


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Trish does the moment she walks through their door is collapse.

And not in that graceful, dramatic way that she’s perfected over the course of her acting career. It’s more of a full frontal, twisting flop. Jess would almost think it’s funny if she didn’t know the weight of the stress, the exhaustion, the drugs, and fuck knows what else is coursing through Trish’s veins.

And as she picks Trish up and carries her over to the bed, Jess can’t help but notice how light Trish is. How easy it would be for Jess to press just a little too hard and break her. Break her more. And as she pours a glass of water (or two) for the inevitable morning crash back to reality, Jess can’t help but think how fragile they might be.

“Time loops fucking suck.”

For a while, Jess just sits there, curled up in a chair, watching Trish. The way her hair tangles over the pillows, the way her breath shudders irregularly, the way her nails dig into the blankets, and, most of all, the way she’s there. The way she’s not broken. Not yet.

“I’m sorry.”

***** 

Jess can’t remember falling asleep, but the moment the sound of sheets rustling a little too quickly and the bathroom door slamming, she’s awake.

Awake, but not entirely sure if she’s ready.

As soon as Trish stumbles back out of the bathroom, empty and worse for wear, Jess is there, a plate of quickly heated breakfast in hand. “Hey.”

Trish grabs the plate without saying a word. She walks over to the table and sits without blinking. All Jess can do is watch, as Trish watches the plate without touching her fork.

The silence isn’t awkward, but it’s far from comfortable.

“I feel like shit.” The words are so quiet, so small, that Jess almost misses them.

“You should.” Jess immediately regrets the harshness in her voice, the way Trish flinches and shrinks into herself.

“I know.”

“Not…” Sometimes, Jess remembers that one time when Dorothy snarkily suggested she take a class in anger management. “Not like that. You took a lot of shit last night.”

“I know.”

“You’ve got to stop.”

It takes Trish a few seconds of fiddling with her fork before she finds something to say. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Are you telling yourself what to do?” The last thing Jess wants to do is get into another argument with Trish, but it comes anyways. If she knew how to avoid it, she would. But every fucking time, it ends here. It ends with Trish dead, and Jess angrier.

“It’s my life.”

“And I’m worried about it, Trish!” Jess can’t stand it. “I’m worried about you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Well, I am.” Despite everything, despite every reason Jess has not to, not caring isn’t an option. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Trish’s huff is right out of Dorothy. “I don’t need you to play hero.”

“Then what do you need me for?”

This silence isn’t awkward either. It’s hostile. Aggressive. Dangerous. Neither of them are going to blink first.

So the universe does it for them.

It starts as a low rumbling through the air. Followed by blinding flashes of light. And by the time Jess sticks her head out of the window, the sky is covered by alien ships. Maybe Jess isn’t an expert on alien tech, but it doesn’t take one to spot that these ships are anything but friendly.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“You have to got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jess almost punches the mirror.

Almost punches the idiot pounding on the door.

Almost.

***** 

Jess waits.

Waits for Trish to get fed up with the paty.

Waits as Trish stumbles through the streets of New Yorks.

Waits until she stops.

Jess does punch Andy, and she has a feeling that’s one bit about this time loop that’s never going to get old.

She waits until Trish falls asleep, curled up the safe blankets of their home.

Waits as the phone dials.

Waits through the excruciatingly catchy hold music.

“Just fucking listen to me!”

“I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

If Jess could physically reach down the phone line and punch the idiots on the other side, she fucking would. But she can’t (and she suspects it might an AI), so she settles for swearing as loudly as she can without disturbing Trish. “You guys told me to call this number if I was ever in trouble!”

“Are you in trouble?” The almost synthetic voices intones back at her, impeccably calm.

“We’re all in trouble!”

“Do you have any evidence?”

Jess stutters. How exactly is she supposed to explain that’s she’s been caught in a time loop and that last time, there was a literal alien invasion, Independence Day-style? “Just trust me.”

“What was your name again?”

“Fuck you.” Jess slams the phone down. She regrets it a moment later when the pieces go flying across the room, and away from a fresh dent in the table. She stops regretting it the next moment, when she remembers just how pissed off she is.

Finding out you have superpowers would be scary enough on a good day, but when you’re an unpopular teenager just months after your family was brutally killed in a car crash? And when you’re newly found adopted mother turns out to be a raging asshole and your newly found sister turns out to be this close to a permanent mental breakdown? Traumatic doesn’t even begin to describe it.

That’s where they came in. Grown ups with wide smiles and promises to help her control her powers, to hone her powers, to be the Morpheus to her Neo, the Giles to her Buffy (even if Jess always liked Faith better). Even if she was just a teenager, Jess was already a good enough reporter to figure out which ones were scams (and which ones were sent by Dorothy). One of them said his name was Scott. Friendly enough, nerdy enough, and with a convincing enough demonstration of his powers that Jess let herself believe he was genuine.

Fucking assholes.

***** 

When Trish gets up, when Trish staggers around the apartment before finally finding somewhere to sit, it takes her long enough to realise that Jess hasn’t said a word.

“Jess?”

“Hey you,” Jess says with as much sarcasm as possible. “You’re finally awake.”

“Are…” Trish doesn’t seem to want to force the words out. Doesn’t seem to want to face the possibility that it might be true. “Are you mad at me?”

Yes. Jess is beyond mad – she’s pissed, she’s furious, she’s frustrated, upset, etc… Find a dictionary, and you can use whatever words you like. But, most of all, she’s still trying to think her way out of this. So she says nothing, replying with a shrug.

“Why?”

Jess hates how terrified Trish sounds. “Wait for it.”

Just on queue, the aliens arrive.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess wipes her face down. Turns off the tap.

She ignores the idiot pounding on the door, saying only a “Go home,” to the girl she pushes away from him.

The second thing she does is find Trish easily through the crowd. Find her bearings.

The third thing she does is put on her (metaphorical) reporters’ hat (because she wasn’t finished teasing Malcolm for his literal idea) and get to work. She maps the key players, the events, the connections between them all, and everything she can remember about cosmic entities and time powers and shit.

It would be easier if it made any sense. If the clock wasn’t ticking towards yet another respawn. If everything didn’t seem to come back to Trish.

***** 

Jess waits until Trish is fast asleep before launching her plan.

She knew Trish would freak out at it, Dorothy would freak out even more, and maybe, just maybe, Jess is kinda looking forward to it. Just a little. Even if it’s a really stupid plan.

The pair of cops munching on a pair of stale doughnuts, taking a break from their totally arduous patrol in the middle of the night, probably weren’t too impressed with the sight of a teenage girl marching towards them. Even if Jess put on her best tattered jeans, her best punk t-shirt, and her darkest leather jacket, her hair artfully messy.

They were, however, mildly impressed when she picked up their car and threw it down the street.

Mildly impressed as in: they stood there, mouths open in shock. Even when Jess picked up another car and tossed it down the street, they still didn’t move, doughnut crumbs tumbling off their uniforms.

“Oh, come on.” Jess didn’t have time for this. “What do you want me to do?” She punched the ground at their feet, splitting the asphalt like a major earthquake. “Jess Smash!” She winced internally at how stupid she sounded, but it had the intended effect. The cops were shaken to their senses, immediately radioing for backup, and… 

Jess had spent a lot of time trying to figure out exactly what her powers were. She knew she had super strength, she knew she could theoretically fly (if she practiced), and she knew she healed reasonably quickly, but what she didn’t know, and wasn’t keen on testing, was whether she was invulnerable to bullets.

So when faced with the cops pointing their guns at her, she did the only logical thing and flew (jumped) away to wreck havoc in a new spot. Several new spots.

Until she arrived to face Jess down. Tall, blonde hair cut short, which combined with those muscles made Jess’s stomach flip just a little, in some fancy Avengers costume and a very bored look.

“Fucking finally.”

“Hey, kid, you might want to—”

Jess punched her. With all her strength. It was enough to make the woman take a step back. “Can you listen to me—” The woman punched Jess back. That was enough to send Jess flying. It was enough to hurt. And when she tried to scramble back to her feet, Jess almost had time to think that maybe this was a bad idea before the woman punched her down again and pinned her down.

“I don’t really want to send a kid to the Raft.” Being this close to her, Jess could practically feel the pure power vibrating through the air.

“You got a name?” Jess squeaked out in her best attempt to appear unfazed.

“Carol. You?”

“Jess.”

“So, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Carol asked. “Jess?”

“There’s going to be an alien invasion.” Jess blurted back. “In a few hours.”

“An alien invasion?”

“Have you ever watched Groundhog Day?” Jess wasn’t a huge fan of the film, but Trish was, so she had been happy to sneak away from Dorothy into one of the many empty rooms in Dorothy’s unnecessarily big house, and watch it over and over.

“No.”

Well, crap. “Time loop. Just trust me.”

“Time loop?” Carol frowned. “Are you high or—”

The aliens decided to come early this time.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

They say practice makes perfect.

Not that Jess really wanted to test that theory, but it’s not like she really had the choice. So she did it all again. Waited out the stupid birthday party (which she just remember was supposed to be for her, ironically), waited out Trish’s stupid thing with Andy, waited out Trish falling asleep, and played around with some more general chaos.

“Hey, kid, you might want to get out of here.”

“Carol, right?” Jess would try and make this as quick as possible.

“That’s me.”

“There’s going to be an alien invasion, I’m stuck in a time loop, and you’ve got to help me.”

“A time loop?” Carol frowned. “Are you high on something?”

“I can’t believe we depend on you guys to save the world.” Jess really couldn’t. Trish had suggested once or twice that Jess sign up to the superhero squad, had even talked about designing Jess a costume, but Jess couldn’t say that she was ever particularly impressed by the Avengers. And, well, this encounter was kinda proving her point.

“Do you want to start from the beginning?”

“Not enough time.” Jess pulled her notebook out of her jacket. “Tell me something that nobody else would know or a code or some shit like that.”

“A code?”

“So next time we don’t have to do this all over again!” Jess could tell that Carol didn’t quite believe her. “Please.”

Carol sighed. “Maybe we should go back to—”

The moment the aliens appeared, Carol grabbed Jess. Whispered something.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“Crap.”

Jess only half-caught what Carol whispered. Hopefully it would be enough.

***** 

Jess winced as the harshness of the whiskey burned down her throat and settled in her stomach. She didn’t want to get used to it, but after all she’s been through, she almost feels like she deserves it. Plus, it was just sitting there at the party, and she had done a really good job of getting Trish out as early as possible.

And now that Trish was asleep, safeish in bed, Jess was almost tempted to get complacent. Almost tempted to just sit there, watching over Trish, almost like Batman over Gotham, all protective and strong and loving and… Jess almost wanted to linger.

In a way, as long the time loop continued, Trish was safe. It didn’t matter what she did, how badly she got abused by the people around her, how self-destructive she let herself be, at the end of the day, well, there wouldn’t be an end. She’d be back at the party, alive and unaware, and Jess would be there too.

If Jess ever figures her way out of this, then the next Trish dies would be real. That idea, that possibility, frightens her to the bone. Especially since it’s so real. Jess knows that it would only take one bad day, a couple of bad hours, and it would all be over. Jess isn’t ready for that. She’s never going to be ready.

“Jess?”

Shit.

“What are you doing?” Trish leaned against the wall, barely keeping herself upright in her drowsy sickness. “Where are you going?”

“Hey,” Jess said in her most soothing voice (which admittedly isn’t the greatest), as she hurried over to help her. “Go back to bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to…”

Jess caught Trish as the stumbled. “You need to rest.”

“Where are you going?” Jess’s heart almost broke at the way Trish was clinging onto her, at the way she was clinging onto Trish.

“There’s some stuff I gotta do.”

“Hero stuff?”

“I’m not a hero.” Jess chuckled. She was a lot of things, but hero wasn’t one of them. “It’s just… stuff. Errands.”

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?” Trish’s voice came muffled through Jess’s leather jacket.

Where to begin? Jess doesn’t even know how she’s supposed to talk to someone who spends all her time either working or high, someone who’s constantly surrounded by people Dorothy put there to guard her or people Trish choses to lose herself in.

“Jess?”

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?” The last thing Jess wants to do is start another argument, but it always seems like it’s the first thing Jess does.

“I do.” And Jess absolutely hates how pathetic Trish’s voice sounds.

“No you don’t!” Jess shoved her away. “Look at this! You didn’t even ask me if I wanted a birthday party, and then you go out and start filling yourself with shit again.”

“It’s my life.” Even when she was sick and half-asleep, it was still intimidating when Trish crossed her arms like that.

“You’re not treating it like a life.”

“I’m happy.”

“Bullshit.” Jess was willing to trust Trish with a lot of things, even if she probably shouldn’t, but being happy? No. Trish was a lot of things, and happy wasn’t one.

“Just because you’re still moping about your real family doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to be depressed.”

Jess couldn’t answer.

“If you don’t like my choices, then stay out of my life.”

It took a Jess a moment before her brain could start working again. “Trish!” A moment in which Trish started walking away.

“I mean it.”

“Trish,” Jess said, desperately trying to calm her anger. “Do you want to…” Trying to calm her fear. “Are you trying to kill herself?”

Trish stopped still. Turned back. Punched Jess. Despite the massive imbalance in strength, the surprise caught Jess hard enough to send her staggering backwards. “Fuck you.”

“I mean it.” Jess didn’t like getting into fights, but she had gotten into enough to know that Trish was trying to hurt her. And, somehow, that hurt more than anything. “Trish, you’re this fucking close to…”

When Trish balled her first up for a second go, Jess moved first.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

As loud as the music playing in the party outside the bathroom was, it didn’t come close to the deafening silence pounding through Jess’s thoughts.

The bones cracked.

They cracked.

Just like…

They cracked.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

They cracked.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

They cracked.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess… 

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

She…

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Trish.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess killed Trish.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess killed herself.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess couldn’t feel the time passing by, the world slipping through her fingers.

All she could feel was the dreadful void in her heart, the awful nothingness engulfing her mind, the horror swallowing her whole, slithering coldly across her skin.

She couldn’t even notice the flowers in the bathroom beginning to wilt.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“Trish.”

Finally, a word came out. Finally, Jess was able to get her brain to tick, her body to move. And the first thing she felt was a wave of nausea that almost knocked her off her feet.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry.”

The only thing she could is drop to the floor, curl up, and cry.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

By the time she found herself standing in front of the sink again, her tears had run dry.

The thought of marching back out that bathroom door, of doing it all over again, of trying to save Trish, of trying to find a way, seemed too much. Too impossible.

So, Jess did the only thing she could. She marched out that door, grabbed the first bottle she saw, and drank.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

And drank.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

And danced (awkwardly, but it did the trick).

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

And let herself get fucked senseless by the first guy who’s hands wandered a bit too low.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

It was at times like this that Jess was both immensely grateful and immensely hateful of her powers. Grateful because they let her drink like there was no tomorrow, hateful because they never let her get drunk enough.

There were a lot of other reasons why Jess hated her powers, from the way she got them to the way they made people look at her, but for now, the only thing that mattered was that they wouldn’t let her lose the edge, wouldn’t let her lose herself in the pounding rhythm and flashing lights.

So she pushed harder. More drink, more dancing, more physical.

Jess almost didn’t notice the girl bumping up against her. But she did notice the hair. The dress.

“Hey, Jess.”

And the sight of her made Jess freeze. Made the alcohol in her veins run cold. “Trish.”

“You look really pretty.” The way Trish ran her hand around Jess burned more than the alcohol.

“Trish.” Jess didn’t know what else to say.

“Wanna dance?”

When Jess felt herself tugged deeper into the crowd, she couldn’t possibly express how much she wanted to say yes. How much she wanted nothing but that.

So she ran.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess wasn’t sure how far she ran.

She wasn’t sure how much further she could’ve kept on running. Probably far. Probably very far. But in the end, she just ended up at the same place. And, she had to admit, the run probably did her some good. Helped her think.

When she marched back out of the bathroom, back past the idiot and girl who she shoved home, she avoided the drink table. Went right for Trish.

“Hey, Jess!” Trish perked up at the sight of her.

“Hey, Trish.” Jess immediately noticed that something was wrong. “Where’s Andy?”

“Who?”

At the sight of Trish’s genuinely puzzled face, Jess decided that it would be better to drop it. “Do you…” She took a deep breath before she pulled out the words. “Wanna dance?”

Jess almost melted at Trish’s smile. For a few minutes, she let herself focus only on that, only on the way Trish was holding her, on the way she was holding Trish, on the way they were together. But eventually the music slowed, and so did they.

“Trish?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Trish looked up at her, puzzled. “Sorry for what?”

“Everything.” Jess made sure to look her in eyes.

“For what everything?” Trish asked, and Jess wasn’t sure if she had a complete answer either. At Jess’s silence, Trish continued. “I’m sorry too.” She smiled drunkenly. “Cause I love you.”

Jess hugged Trish as tightly as she could without hurting her. “Love you t—”

Trish chose that moment to throw up.

***** 

They made it about halfway back to the apartment before Jess realised that they must’ve stayed at the party a lot longer than she was used to.

She laughed at the sight of the aliens.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess wasn’t imagining it.

The silence. The music, of course, was still blaring behind her, but the pounding on the door was gone. And when she marched over and opened up the door, the jerk and the girl were gone.

In a way it made sense – Jess had noticed that each time loop was a little different, so obviously there’d be a loop where they weren’t there, right? And, honestly, Jess had bigger things on her mind. Like Trish. Well, just Trish. As always, the first thing she did when she got back out into the party was check where she was – she was there, dancing with a couple of girls Jess vaguely recognised from her production. And Jess was tempted to go over and join them (or, more accurately, join Trish), but she figured it was time to get some solid answers. To get something she could tell Trish next time.

***** 

Okay, so maybe wanton destruction did get old.

But when Carol appeared again, Jess didn’t really care. If it works, it works. She just had to hope that the code worked too. “Brown!”

“What?” Carol stared back at her like she was nuts.

“Brin?” Jess was sure the code had started with a word like that. More or less. “Bin? Bon? Broon?”

“Are you high?”

“You gave me the code!” Jess shouted back.

“The code?”

“Time loop. Long story.” Jess really wished she had the time to catch it. “Brun?”

“Brunnhilde?”

“Yes!” That was it. Probably. More or less. “What’s that?”

“Who’s that,” Carol answered. “How do you know that name?”

“You told me. Last time. In the time loop.”

Carol immediately became more serious. “Start from the beginning.”

“Can we just talk?” Jess continued before Carol could interrupt. “I just… I have some questions. A question.”

Carol almost said something else. “Fine.”

“What it’s like to be a hero?”

“You want to be one?”

No, Jess didn’t really want that. In fact, she definitely didn’t want that. “I’m going to be a journalist. But… Have you ever had to save someone you loved?”

“It happens.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“You fight like hell for them,” Carol replied with a shrug.

“And if they don’t want to be saved?”

“Well,” Carol took a moment before answering. “You fight even harder.”

The silence that followed, as Jess thought it over and Carol couldn’t think of something to add, was only interrupted by the sound of the aliens.

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“Fight like hell, eh?”

That was the easy part, at least as far as Jess was concerned. The hard part was figuring out how to fight like hell.

She’d have stayed there, in front of the sink, thinking it over and over for ages, if the absence of the pounding on the door didn’t bother her so much. And after she marched out and back into the party, it struck her that it was smaller. Less crowded.

“Jess!” And she was definitely struck by the way Trish barrelled into her. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are we here again?”

“Again?” The suspicion crept up the back of Jess’s neck.

“We were here.” Even in her drunken state, Trish was trying to make sense of things. “And we were and then you and then I and then… we’re here again.”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much.” Trish laughed in that dazed way she did when she was high, far more real than her acting, yet nowhere near as real, as pleasant, as when she was alone with Jess. “You’re pretty.”

“I’m trying to fix it, okay?” Jess didn’t want Trish to start worrying, or worse, panicking. Or causing a panic.

“Fix what?”

“Time loop. Don’t worry, it’s under control.”

“Time loop?” Trish giggled. “Like Hedgehog Day. All timey-wimey.”

“It’s…” It’s not worth correcting her. “It’s timey-wimey.”

“Hmm.” Trish grinned contently. “Wanna dance?”

“Trish, I need to—”

“Just one song?”

Trish knew Jess couldn’t say no to her when she smiled like that. And so one song turned into two and two turned into three and-- 

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“How?”

This wasn’t fair. Trish was literally right in front of her. Literally right in her arms.

“Fuck me.”

Jess only let herself spend a moment at the sink, a moment to catch her breath, before she marched back out. As she stepped out the bathroom door, the party was noticeably emptier than the last time. When she looked back into the bathroom, the flowers were almost completely wilted.

“Shit.”

“Jess!” She barely had time to put two and two together before Trish came flying on to her. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” The way Trish looked scared was making Jess even more nervous. “Something’s wrong.”

“Is it me?”

“No.” It took Jess a moment to register what Trish had asked. “Of course not! It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Are we in trouble?”

“Come on.” Jess tugged Trish with her. Grabbed the first jacket she saw and tossed it round Trish’s shoulders. “We need to—”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

They had barely made it out the door.

“Fuck.”

This time, Jess just marched right out the door.

“Jess!”

“Wait here.” Jess pushed Trish into a chair before she could cling on to her. “I’m going to fix this.” And before Trish could say anything else, Jess was gone out the window.

***** 

“Brunnhilde.”

“How do you know that name?” Carol frowned at Jess, not at all impressed by the teenager.

“Time loop.”

“Time—”

“Just shut up!” Jess shouted. She didn’t have time for this. Not anymore. “We need to assemble the Avengers or whatever the fuck it is you guys do. The world’s ending.”

Carol frowned deeper, utterly puzzled. “Who are the Avengers?”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

“Fuck!”

Jess brought her fists down onto the sink. Smashed the marble into a million pieces.

“Fuck!”

She didn’t stop with the sink. She wrenched the taps out of their sockets, shattered the mirror, the flower vase, punched holes through the walls, whatever she could find.

“Why are you doing this to us?”

She didn’t get an answer. Alone in the bathroom, surrounded by broken chunks of everything and leaking water, she didn’t suppose she would. But it’s not like she knew what else to do. What else she could do.

“Please just make it stop.”

Jess liked to say Jessica Jones never cries. Even before the car crash, she was always the tough one in the family. Or, maybe it was more like the rough one, the one who came home at the end of the day with scraped knees and grass stains, the one who learned every lightsaber move in every Star Wars movie by heart, but she liked to tell herself (and everyone else) that she was the tough one.

Tonight, in this bathroom, in this godforsaken time loop, Jess couldn’t pretend anymore. Tonight, Jessica Jones cried.

“Jess?” Trish voice came muffled through the door, accompanied by a few small knocks. “Jess?” It came again when Jess failed to answer, still trying to control her breathing. To stop the tears.

“Hey, Trish.” Jess finally found the strength to walk the few metres and open the door.

“Everyone’s leaving.” Trish looked back at the party, only a small handful of people left, all dancing to the music. It almost absurd enough to make Jess laugh. Almost.

“I know.”

For the next few minutes, they just stood there, next to each other, watching what was left of the party.

Trish was the first to break the silence. “This is a really bad trip.” She chuckled to herself. “I don’t want to do this again.”

“I know.”

“Maybe… Maybe I should go to rehab,” Trish said, letting out a shaky breath. “Do you think that would be a good idea?”

Jess couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah. Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

When Trish started giggling, Jess found herself giggling soon after. For the next few minutes, all they did was laugh, uncontrollably, the only way to let every emotion out without overwhelming them.

“It was meant to be your birthday.” Trish was the first to break the silence again.

“It was?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It didn’t really seem like a big deal anymore. It really didn’t.

“No, it’s not.” Trish seemed to disagree. Trish seemed to think it was a big deal. “It’s meant to be special.” Well, in a way, it’s turned to be very special. “Cause you’re special, Jess. You’re—”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

Jess didn’t even have in her to say fuck anymore.

She just turned around and marched through the door. Marched through the empty hallway. Through the empty kitchen. The empty living room.

“Hey, Jess.”

She slumped down against the wall next to Trish. “Hey.”

“Everyone’s gone.”

“Yeah.”

Trish snaked an arm around Jess. Fitted her hands into Jess’s. “Is this…” She curled up into Jess. “It this the end?”

“I don’t know.” The idea of saying yes, as much as Jess knew it was probably true, just seemed too much. “I’m sorry.”

Jess could feel the tear run down Trish’s cheek as they curled up into each other. “At least you’re here,” Trish managed to say.

“Always.” Jess squeezed Trish’s hand, in what she hoped was reassuring. “Together. Always.”

There didn’t seem like there was much more to say. There wasn’t anything to do except sit there, together, and wait for the end, for the last blink of the universe. But at least they were together. Till the end.

“Jess?”

“Hm?”

“You know you’re my hero, right?”

Jess looked over at Trish. Found her eyes, as beautiful as ever, despite everything. “You too.”

_Gotta get up_

_Gotta get out_

_Gotta get home before the morning comes_

_What if I'm late? _

_Gotta big date, gotta get home before the sun comes up_

_Up and away, got a big day, sorry can't stay_

_Gotta run, run, yeah_

_Gotta get home, pick up the phone, I gotta let the people know I'm gonna be late_

_There was a time when we could dance until a quarter to ten,_

_We never thought it would end then, we never thought it would end_

_We used to carry on and drink and do the rock and roll_

_We never thought we'd get older_

_We never thought it'd grow cold, but now_

_Gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get home before the morning comes_

The beat of the music slammed into Jess, knocking her back to her senses and almost off her feet.

Jess hardly had the time to blink before the pounding at the door reverbated through her ears.

The pounding at the door.

The pounding.

“Finally!” Jess almost ripped the door right off its hinges. Somehow, the sight of the drunken idiot trying to push his way past her seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Fuck off,” Jess snapped back, almost playfully. By well-practiced reflex, she pulled the girl away from him and sent her off towards the coats. “Go home.”

“Sweet birthday baby!” Someone cheers out from the kitchen, aimed towards everyone and no one, as Jess pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes scanning the room, searching for…

“Jess.”

“Trish.”

“Jess, you’re… we’re here.”

The hug that went between them said it all.

***** 

“You’re going to feel like shit when you wake up.”

“I know,” Trish mumbled as Jess helped her across the road. Even if the time loop was over, the drugs that she had put through her system earlier in the day weren’t. Not yet.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

Trish shook her head. “Just be there.”

“Always.” Jess grinned as they made it a block further. Together. “And, hey, Trish, it’s still going to be my birthday week.”

Trish snorted. “Birthday week?”

“Of course.” Jess was barely able to stop from laughing. “And there’s something I need to know.”

“Hmm?”

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”


End file.
